


Hotshot

by ellymango



Category: Pokemon Ranger
Genre: Gen, Major Character Injury, One Shot, Pre-Canon, jungle relic challenge, minor depiction of injury
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:34:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24740107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellymango/pseuds/ellymango
Summary: He'd been here more times than he could count, completed each challenge so many times he could do them blindfolded. All of them, save for the Challenge of Fire.It was about time he changed that.
Comments: 9
Kudos: 9





	Hotshot

“Just give up already.”

Joel’s voice sounded so distant as he aborted capture for the second time. “There’s, what, three more challenges? Just beat those instead.”

“I haven’t beaten this one though.” Which seemed strange; they’d done this Relic challenge how many times now? Enough for him to have memorised the inscriptions on each plinth, enough times for him to be able to trace the correct path in each maze, Hell, he was pretty sure that wretched Salamence recognised him, the number of times he’d captured it.

And yet somehow, he hadn’t completed the Challenge of Fire.

Getting through the area was easy enough, honestly it was probably the easiest area to traverse out of the four Relic challenges. Capturing the Charizard at the end, on the other hand, was a different story. 

Spenser wasn’t exactly sure _why_ it was so difficult to capture. It was true he didn’t encounter wild Charizards much, they were extremely rare even in their home region, let alone in Fiore, but the other Pokémon in the Relic challenge weren’t all that common either and he’d never had any trouble with them. The first time he’d faced off against that Salamence, it had taken him nearly thirty loops and five minutes of his time. Now he could do it in seconds. 

“One more try. Then we’ll move on.”

Joel rolled his eyes, barely concealing his annoyance. “Fine. But I’m not staying.”

“Where are you going?”

“Well I’m not standing here watching you again. I’ll be in the next room.”

“The Flygon room?”

“Yeah, think it’s that one.” He turned on his heel. “If you’re not done when I get back, we’re leaving.”

Spenser nodded mutely, loading another disk into his styler. It was becoming no secret that Joel was gradually losing interest in this Relic challenge; it had started off as sighs of annoyance, throwaway quips, _“God, you’re obsessed with that bloody challenge”_ , and had since escalated into loud, open groans any time a mere trip to Summerland was even mentioned. 

It didn’t bother him at first, he could shake it off with either teasing or self-deprecation (usually the former), but now he was starting to realise he would probably have to find someone else to accompany him to these challenges. Maybe he could convince that Cameron guy to come along. He could use some toughening up if he wanted to be a base leader.

The Charizard had since flown up to an overhang some good few metres above the floor of the maze, and was bearing down on him with the smuggest face Spenser had ever seen on a reptile. He knew Pokémon were as capable of expressing the same range of emotions as humans, he was a Ranger for crying out loud, he’d just never seen an expression quite like _that._ Hell, not even Joel could pull off a look so sickeningly shit-eating and smug.

“I’ll capture you. Whether you like it or not, I’ll capture you.”

The Charizard snorted, white smoke starting to stream slowly out of its flared nostrils, before it hauled itself lazily into the air and started circling overhead, now billowing thick smoke. It was taunting him, he could tell. Capture discs couldn’t fly after all, not unless he felt like slinging it into the air and praying he could close his loop in time. Which was something he was certainly _not_ attempting. Joel still hadn’t let him forget the last time he attempted that. Besides, he was running low on discs.

They locked eyes briefly, and he could still see a cocky glint in the Charizard’s eye before it disappeared into the cloud of smoke it had created. Spenser bristled, his styler arm pulling back, ready for release. He wouldn’t be caught off guard this time. He’d learnt this trick on his last attempt. The Charizard would create a smokescreen, fly into it, hide for a while, then come charging at hi-

A blast of hot air from behind was the only warning he had before he was bowled over by a hard blow to his back, forcing him forwards a good few feet before being bucked over the Charizard’s head and haphazardly onto the ground. 

Well. That was a new trick. 

He scrambled up, barely concealing his annoyance as he faced the offending Pokémon, which still had that damned expression plastered on its face. He stamped his feelings down, pulling his arm back, ready to release, trying to focus on staying calm, relaxed, _remember you’re trying to befriend it, not catch it, keep your mind clear-_

“Capture on.”

The robotic voice from his styler broke his concentration, and his arm swung forward, sending the capture disc skittering towards the Charizard. Curiously, he closed the first loop with ease, then the second, then the third…

And he was midway through the fourth when the Charizard recoiled and spat a chunk of flaming debris directly towards his capture line, barely grazing it as it smashed into the ground and sent further shards flying in all directions. 

Ah yes, that was more like it.

A second attempt ended the same way, only this time with a more direct hit which caused the line to whip back into his styler with an uncomfortable _crack._

His third attempt was retracted immediately when the Charizard decided it felt like flying straight up into the air before slamming itself down again, sending a shockwave throughout the chamber (honestly, he was surprised it hadn’t pulled that stunt earlier).

His fourth attempt almost resulted in him having to replace his capture disc.

And the fifth…

It had started well, he told himself that. Disc released, first few loops closed, swerved to avoid an attack…

He staggered backwards, winded by a hard, sharp blow directly above his right eye. Spenser cursed loudly, bringing his hand down from the impact zone, duly aware of the unmistakable stickiness of fresh-drawn blood. Great. He could hear Joel’s taunting already.

The capture disc was still out on the field, idling and ready for another attempt. Desperately stamping down his mounting frustration, which was begging to spike, he summoned the disc back, not retracting it fully but keeping it close, ready to resume from where he left off. There was no way he was starting anew now. 

oOo

Five minutes. That was his new personal record.

Not that it mattered much, by this point Joel was sure he could complete these challenges in his sleep. In retrospect, he really should have kept a record of the number of times he’d been here. It’d be interesting to see just how many times he’d been dragged out to this miserable jungle challenge after all.

Of course, he’d enjoyed coming here once upon a time. On his first visit here, it’d been refreshing to capture targets which actually _challenged him_ , and to have someone else to show off to and compete against? Why, that was something he’d been craving back then.

But then he’d been made to come back, again and again. Now it was just tedious, and had Spenser not been so young he would’ve stopped coming here a very long time ago.

Not that Spenser’s age appeared to hinder his abilities, far from it. The boy was a prodigy, having flown up the ranks faster than anyone Joel had seen before. He’d barely been with them a year and was already at rank six. At this rate, Joel estimated he’d reach rank ten before he turned eighteen. 

He sighed, flipping open his styler to check the time. Just coming up to four in the evening. If Spenser didn’t hurry his ass up they’d be walking home in the dark.   
Standing in front of the entrance to the Challenge of Fire, Joel wondered what was keeping him so long. Though he knew he’d been remarkably quick capturing the Flygon, Spenser was remarkably quick with his captures as well. Part of him had expected to find the young ranger standing by the arched entrance, checking his reflection in the screen of his styler, ready to fire some kind of snide remark about how long he’d taken, and that he’d captured that Charizard ages ago, and would wave its capture record in his face. 

But… he was nowhere to be seen. 

Still, he could wait just a little bit longer. Just a little bit longer. He certainly didn’t want to walk through that jungle any later than sunset. 

His Dodrio twitched, seeming slightly uneasy. That wasn’t new; despite the size of the cavern, the atmosphere inside was still somewhat uncomfortable. The air was wet and bitterly cold, and felt somewhat unhealthy to breathe in, the stone walkways, though solid, were crumbling and unstable in places, there were various rock falls blocking off passageways, and the fact the area was prone to earthquakes only exacerbated Joel’s fear that one day the whole structure would just cave in and kill them both. 

He stroked her back, being careful not to ruffle her feathers too much. “Relax, we’ll be out of here so-”

There was a crash from inside the chamber, the unmistakable sound of rock slamming against the stone floor and smashing. Immediately, Joel had his back against the wall, flicking on the torch function on his styler and preparing for an impromptu capture. He held his breath, waiting, _anticipating,_ something to lunge out and attack. 

But nothing did. 

He forced himself to hold his breath longer, straining his ears for the slightest sound, any indication as to what might be hiding beyond the stone arch. He could hear what sounded like breathing, very slow, pained breathing, and as he tried to figure out whether the breathing was human or Pokémon, he heard a whine. A distinctive, human whine.  
With his torch raised to his shoulder and his fingertips just grasping the rim of the arch, Joel took one last breath of confidence before turning to face into the chamber.

He almost dropped his torch.

“Spenser…?”

The young ranger was on the ground, kneeling beside the ruined remains of one of the two stone plinths that stood next to the entrance to the main chamber. His head was bent down, his thick shaggy hair obscuring his face, and in the cold silence of the chamber his laboured, trembling breaths were difficult to listen to. He was quite obviously hurt, and though Joel didn’t want to think about it, he knew it must be serious. Spenser wasn’t a drama queen after all.

“What… happened?”

Spenser didn’t respond, though maybe he tried to, as his breathing seemed to hitch. Oh God, was he in shock? That was the last thing Joel was prepared to deal with right now.   
It was then he finally noticed the state of his arm.

Spenser’s right arm hung limply at his side, his jacket singed and the fabric completely molten in places. Through the rips and tears his skin was a sickly, glistening red. Burned, obviously burned, to what extent he didn’t know, but given how his coat had _melted_ in places...

“Oh… _God.”_

**Author's Note:**

> I will say this fic was a bit of a bitch to write, mostly on the grounds I didn't know how to end it off once I ran out of things to say. So I decided to keep it abrupt and snappy, I might add more to this, might not, who knows? ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Also hello! I'm a veteran of this fandom yet for some reason I've never produced fanfiction for it. I do have some more ideas for future fics, so hope to see you soon!


End file.
